Soul Guards
by Revolutionist320
Summary: Ponyboy goes out of town for college and lives in a host family's house. In the new land, he experiences something that he had never believed to be true. Written in Ponyboy's POV.
1. Chapter 1

Author's note: Hi people, this is my first outsiders story. I got the idea from a Japanese show called "The Real Ghost Story (ほんとに怖い話)." Please read and review. There might be some mistakes here and there.

August 1970

It happened when I first moved into Nakamura's House in Nagoya, Japan.

It is a big, 2-story house built of bricks. It is not a traditional Japanese house, but it definitely looks different from the houses back in the US. These thoughts came to my mind as I stood against the wall outside of my room.

"Just wait for a couple minutes and we'll get all these trash out." Mr. Nakamura said as he and the other college boy, who also home-stayed at Nakamura's House, carried a medium size box out from the room. Suddenly I heard the sound of an ambulance roaring sharply outside.

"That's probably going to the Keishin Hospital near by. You might feel the siren annoying at first, but you'll get use to it." Mr. Nakamura reassured. Behind him, I saw a figure "glided" through the back of the room.

_You ought to meet Kathy's brother. He glides as he walks…_One of Two-Bit's description of someone slipped into my brain as I went check inside the room. Not too surprisingly, I didn't see anyone because Mr. Nakamura and the boy just left the room with the box. Maybe I just imagined seeing that gliding figure. I thought, smiling bleakly. I wished it was that simple.

"Uh, you can keep a couple of these empty cardboards if you want to." The college boy said to me in a strong Japanese accent.

"Ok, thanks. I can use them as bookshelves."

After dinner, I spent the entire evening unpacking and straightening things. When I looked at the clock, it was almost 2 am. I decided to shut the light off even though I wasn't very tire because of jet-leg.

The pillow case and blanket were brought from Tulsa, and they smelled like my old room. Thinking of this made me feel a little nostalgic. I was thrilled when I received the scholarship from Oklahoma Cultural Exchange program and the admission letter of Nagoya University. I was proud of my achievement, but I couldn't deny that I was homesick at that moment. Maybe it's all a dream. I thought absently. In the morning, Soda and Darry would tickle me to death, Two-Bit and Steve would be yelling in our living room, and we would join them in few seconds, and then maybe Soda would let me drive to DX…

A heavy knock on the door interrupted my nostalgia. "誰ですか？(who is it)"　I asked. No one answered. I got up and opened the door but saw no one standing outside. As I began to wonder, I heard the sound of ambulance came from outside. "Glory…" I cursed under my breath. The knocking sound was still going on.

"なにやでの…what the friggin' heck…" I stepped into the dark hallway, trying to find out where the sound came from.

There are 4 rooms in this house. To my surprise I went into nostalgia again. From the spot I was standing, I could close my eyes and imagine I was in my house in Tulsa. There were Soda and Steve knocked against the wall as they tried to rip each other in pillow fight…

I realized that the sound of knocking came from inside my room.

In the morning, I woke up at least half-an-hour later than other people because no one came tickling me.

"おはようございます(good morning)。" I greeted Mrs. Nakamura, who was standing in front of the soup boiling on the stove.

"おはよう、Curtis-kun. Why don't you sleep for longer since you still have jisaboke (jet-leg)?" asked Mrs. Nakamura.

The dinning room was noisy with all the boys chatting. Two of them tackled each other to the nearest sofa. "Boys will always be boys." Mr. Nakamura murmured behind the news paper.

"Please help yourself." Mrs. Nakamura put a bowl of porridge in front of me. "I hope you are okay with Oriental-style breakfast."

"Arigatou." I said.

"Hey." A brown-hair boy sitting across from me uttered. "Did you sleep well last night?"

"Yes, but I stayed up pretty late."

I remembered his name was Alex Brekkon. He is a half American and half Japanese who grew up in California. He had been in Nagoya for a year.

"That's good. Did anything weird happen?"

"Eh, well, I thought I heard some knocking came from no where…I don't know. I didn't see anyone when I opened the door."

Alex uttered a soft sighed. "Just as I think..."

"What are you talking about?"

"Well, I don't want to startle you, but…that room is kind of weird. It was a while ago. Once when I woke up and went to bathroom in the mid-night, I heard some knocking came from inside that room. I was gonna go check, but to my surprise, the door was half-way opened. You know, Mr. Nakamura usually leaves the door shut unless he needs to move stuff in or out of the room.

Ok. When I tried to see inside the room, I saw a figure, seemed like a kid, trudging his way across the room."

My eyes widened. Hesitatingly, I told Alex about the figure I saw in the afternoon a day earlier.

"So there's more than one of those things in that room." Alex concluded. "You better watch out, buddy."

"But how?" I meant it. I was taught to keep an eye on who would ran out and jump on me when I walked on the street, but I doubted if a blade would help if I got jumped by a… ghost.

"Well, maybe don't stay up too late. I think you'll be fine as long as they don't know that you're looking at them."

It has been a week since I came to Japan. As I promised Soda and Darry, I was writing my first letter back to Tulsa. While I was giving the letter a final check, I heard the siren howled again. As it was like in the past days, the weird knocking sound immediately followed the siren.

My heart turned cold. Thinking of Alex's warning, I put down the letter and went to bed.

The knock continued in the darkness for an hour or so. Sometimes it quieted into a whisper, and the next moment it turned to into a heavy pound.

"Damn it." I cussed, feeling fright spread through my veins like electricity. I was quite familiar with this feeling because it always happened when I woke up with a nightmare, but the thing is, I haven't been woken by nightmares in the past year, and the freaking knock weren't in dreams.

I forced my eyes shut, but the harder I tried, the tighter my eyelids became. At the same time, I also heard a different sound behind the knock. It sounded like footsteps.

The rhythm of the knock was parallel with the beat of my heart. I felt myself getting numb, but I saw something moving across the room out of the corner of my eyes.

I adjusted my position to see the moving object. It was a male figure, not the gliding one though, trudging passed the closet. It trudged as it walked because only one of its foot had a clog on.

My heart tightened like every time I was scared by nightmare. How much I wished Soda was sleeping next to me, how much I wished his arm was across my shoulder, how…

I turned away, avoiding eye contact with the figure as it turned around in the corner, and then I jumped out of my skin. A ghastly face lay one foot away from mine. Half of the face was rotten that it looked like a skeleton. Its gown was ragged, and it only wore one clog.

"Bloody murder--" I screamed those words for the first time in two year.

I moved into Alex's room the following day, and my old room became storage again. Mr. Nakamura told me that there used to be a bomb shelter around the area during the Second World War. "It wasn't rare that people died in bomb shelter, and the shelter might even been hit by a bomb," said Mr. Nakamura.

I asked him how it could be related to the siren. As you know, it was not very easy for me to work out that sentence in Japanese.

"Well, maybe the meaning of the siren, you know, it is heading to the hospital. Perhaps they knocked because they were asking for help." Mr. Nakamura answered ponderously. "Eh…I'm sorry that it bothered you…"

That was the most awkward apology I've ever heard, but I didn't blame him. He couldn't do anything about it because the ghosts were not home-staying like us. I guessed they still knocked on the wall whenever the ambulance roared by…


	2. Chapter 2 The Broken Necklace

Does anyone remember that Dally was wearing a necklace in the movie? It appears in this story.

Disclaimer: I got the idea from The Outsiders and "The Real Ghost Story　ほんどに怖いうわさ."

July 1971

Although I came to Nagoya with a full-grant scholarship, the cost of all the miscellaneous stuff and rent was still quite a number. Luckily, the career center at my college helped me find an アルバイト (part-time job) of newspaper delivery.

I told Darry and Soda about this in the letter. Soda asked in his usual playful tone (which was shown in his spelling and hand-writing) that why I wanted to be a paperboy in Japan. I had knocked Steve against the wall after he referred to me as "some brat riding his bike and delivers newspaper" when I got my DX shirt, but I didn't say I don't like being a paperboy. Darry said at least it gets me to get up early so that I wouldn't be a pain in the Nakamura's house. Actually, Alex and Kyohe enjoyed punching me with pillows in the morning.

If the weather is nice, it's not too bad to deliver newspaper at dawn; but if the weather is bad, getting up early would be painful. Paddling in the rain sucks! Nevertheless, nothing sucks as much as the apartment at 西田町 (Nishita Street).

For some reason, I just feel sick in my heart whenever I go there. The apartment isn't old or nasty, but the dim stairway gives me creeps. I don't know why. I mean, I had stayed in an abandoned church for like five days, but I don't remember feeling the same kind of creep.

I always rub my palms against Dally's necklace before I climb up the stairs. At this moment, Dally's necklace clams me down more than cigarette does. However, what happened in the morning few days ago still makes me shiver.

It was a cloudy morning. The street was still deadly asleep like most people living on it. I groaned as I entered the apartment. Here goes the paycheck! I thought, reluctantly making my way to the stairway. Stop giving yourself creeps and be as tough as a greaser!

I repeated the same sentence as I climbed up the stairs. But when I reached the corner on the stairway between second and third floor, I lost my cool. Did I see a figure, seemed like a girl, standing in the corner? I turned back and saw no one there.

Stop playing chicken! There ain't no freaking Socs here. I sped up as I felt goose- bumps forming on my skin, and plus I had to jam some newspaper in few mailboxes on third floor.

The walkway brightened as the sunlight crept in. The sky looked just like that morning up on Jay Mountain four years ago, but I wasn't able to recite the poem when I turned to face the stairway.

Damn it! I need a cigarette, I need a cigarette. I haven't been smoking like a weed fiend like I used to back in junior high and tenth grade. I cut smoking because I wanted to stay in the track team. _Sprint fast down the stairs after you're done with delivering._ I thought.

I climbed up the stairs under the dull fluorescent light. Despite my trying to ignore the tightening nerves, I spotted the figure again on fifth floor. This time, I decided not to look back and checked.

I put the last three stacks of newspaper in three mailboxes on the sixth floor. Then, the only thing I needed to do was to rush down the stairs as fast as I could. Staring down the dim stairway, I rubbed Dally's necklace. Ready—get set—GO!!

I let my mind shut like I do whenever I'm running. Imagine being on the track field, on the way to the lot after Darry hit me, or being chased by five Socs…just don't think about being inside this apartment.

As I stepped into the much-brighter lobby from the ghastly stairway, there was only one thing on my mind: I made it. I bent down and catch my breath. I should've quit smoking earlier. I thought, half joking and half serious. Then, I did something that I will later regret for doing it—I turned to see the stairway.

A cadaverous face of a young man stared at me hardly from the doorway. His eyeballs touched the edge of the eyelids, leaving the lower white space filled with blood strings. His gray face approached me in the pace of ghost trail, and I smelled the rotten air of death.

I can't remember much about what happened afterwards. Part of the reason was that I paddled the bike with my mind shut (I bet I got honk at for many times), and the other part was that I don't want to recall the fright any more. I only remember finding Dally's necklace broken later that day. Did I pull it by accident, or was it related to those bizarre things happened in the morning?


End file.
